Fairy Tales
by Brigid
Summary: There is a code among certain Voyager fanfiction writers that says "You must write a turbolift story." Here's mine.


**Title**: Fairy Tales

**Series**: Star Trek Voyager; P/T

**Summary**: There is a code among fan-fic writers that says "You must write a turbolift story." Here's mine.

**Rating**: PG

**Disclaimer**: Paramount owns the characters but I love to play with them. Thanks to Ann for her outstanding beta skills.

**Date**: July, 2004

**Author**: Brigid (brigidandmikejuno.com)

**Dedicated to Birthdays**

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**_Fairy Tales_**

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B'Elanna Torres was cursing in Klingon as she slapped the button to call the lift. "Why in the hell do all these people in the Delta Quadrant shoot first and ask questions later? Why do they always do it when I'm 12 decks away from engineering and where the hell is the damn lift?"

When the lift arrived it bore none other than Tom Paris, Voyager's pilot. He rewarded her wait with a cocky grin as he rushed to his station.

Capt. Janeway had a different idea though, "We're okay here, Tom. Go on down to sickbay and see what kind of help the doctor needs."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered as he retraced his steps to the lift catching the door just before it closed.

B'Elanna greeted him with a glare, barking, "Deck 12".

Tom responded cautiously with "Deck 5."

As the lift began to move, Tom ventured a question, "Any idea who attacked us?"

"No, the miserable p'taqs just hit us and ran. They have no honor and less guts," she growled just as the lift gave a violent lurch.

Tom reached out and pulled B'Elanna's body to his to break her fall. The lift tilted hard and Tom struck his head against the controls. As they fell to the floor all B'Elanna could see was the red and back of Tom's uniform; all Tom could see was stars.

"Stop shaking me. I'm up, I'm up…" Tom grumbled, "…or not…" he finished hesitantly as he opened his eyes with a groan. B'Elanna Torres was doing the shaking, that much registered through the fog in his mind but where the hell were they?

"Open your eyes, Paris. Come on. We're stuck in the turbolift. Open your eyes and make yourself useful." B'Elanna's voice was loud and strident, but contained a hint of fear.

Opening his eyes caused Paris a significant amount of pain, but he was pretty sure the pain in his head and…. yeah, now his shoulder seemed to hurt a lot as well, would get worse if he didn't comply. "Okay, Torres, my eyes are open, what do you want me to do?"

"Help me find a way to get out of here."

"Okay, sure. Just give me a second to get the room to stop spinning." His voice was rough and breathless, causing B'Elanna to look at him a little closer.

She reached out her hand to help him up and was momentarily disconcerted by the fact that he had trouble finding it and that he was looking for it with his left hand. Pulling him to his feet, she began to assess his injuries which had suddenly become more important than their predicament. "Let me see you head. What have you done?" she asked roughly.

"OW! I hit it on something, probably the access panel," he replied.

"Well, it's bleeding like hell. I need something to use as a compress. How about your turtleneck? I'll help you get it off." B'Elanna offered.

"B'Elanna, we've only been in this turbolift a couple of minutes and you're already starting to take my clothes off. I'm just not that kind of guy." Tom responded with a grin and a grimace.

"Don't flatter yourself, Paris. You're getting blood all over this lift and I don't want one of my crew to have to clean up any more of a mess than they have to."

"You're all heart, Torres," he said as he began to take off his jacket. "Oh, shit, that hurts," Tom exclaimed as he started to pull it off his right shoulder.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"If I had to take an educated guess, and the doctor has been educating me to take guesses, I'd say I have a dislocated shoulder." Tom moaned.

"Here, let me help you."

Her response was far gentler than he'd expected and Tom shook his head to see if he was imagining things. That was as mistake. A thousand sparks of pain immediately destroyed his equilibrium and caused him to fall roughly against B'Elanna.

"Hold on, we're going to sit you back down," B'Elanna spoke to him with concern as she eased him back to the floor of the lift.

"Okay, mom," he murmured weakly as he slid back down the wall.

"Funny, Paris, very funny," she answered, but her voice no longer sounded rough or angry, it sounded worried.

Once he was seated and the room stopped spinning, Tom was able to help B'Elanna take his jacket and turtleneck off. The sleeve of the turtleneck was used as a compress to stop the bleeding on the back of his head while the remainder of the garment was fashioned into a sling for his right arm.

Suddenly, the thought occurred to Tom that they were handling this situation in the most difficult manner. "Torres, why don't we just call Harry and get him to beam us out of here?" he asked quizzically.

"I tried that while you were napping. Communications are down," she growled in frustration.

Tom tried to nod in agreement but it hurt too much. Then he asked, "How long was I out?"

"Not long, no more than a minute. I do have enough field medic training to know that you needed to be awake as soon as possible."

"Thanks," he murmured.

"Don't start to drift off on me, Paris. You need to stay awake and help me figure out how to get out of here." B'Elanna shook him gently.

"I'm awake, I'm awake… what do you want me to do?"

"Well, I was going to stand on your shoulders and climb through the top of the lift but I don't think that's going to happen now."

Tom thought for a minute, "have you tried accessing the controls to see if you can make the repair yourself."

"As a matter of fact, I have. Your head seems to have smashed the panel beyond repair. I've never seen quite that much damage done by one head. I'll have to remember it next time I need a sledge hammer." Her words were tempered with a worried smile. "How does it feel?"

"Like someone took a sledge hammer to it," he replied.

The minutes passed quietly until B'Elanna noticed Tom's head start to nod. "Hey, Paris, stay with me here. Even I know that you've probably got a concussion and shouldn't go to sleep."

"I'm awake, I'm awake," he murmured, trying to force his eyes open. "Keep talking to me. I think that will help."

"What do you want me to talk about?"

"Anything… tell me your life story." Tom answered her.

"That would put a wide awake person to sleep."

"Try me."

"What's to tell? You know most of it. My father was Starfleet, human. My mother was an engineer, Klingon. They got married, went through a lot to have me, and then my father left. I guess he got sick of Klingons. Anyhow, my mother and I moved to Kessick, fought for the next five years or so and then I left to join Starfleet. They weren't any fonder of Klingons than my father so they booted me out too. I joined the Maquis and wound up here in the Delta Quadrant on a Starfleet ship and stuck with you in a turbolift. My life in 100 words or less." B'Elanna ended with a touch of bitterness in her voice.

"You're going to have to come up with more than that if you intend to keep me awake till we're rescued. How about an old Klingon fairy tale?" Tom smiled at her.

"I don't know any fairy tales." B'Elanna grumbled.

"Okay, I'll tell you one, then." Tom said softly. "Come on over here and keep me company." He held out his good arm to her.

Reluctantly she moved closer, telling herself that it was only to keep a closer eye on her patient. "I'm not sure what this is supposed to accomplish."

"You're humoring an injured shipmate."

"Well, this better be a good story," B'Elanna answered tartly.

"I'm an expert at storytelling. You'll see. Now which story should I tell you? My life story? Nope, we don't want anything quite that depressing. How about a Delta Quadrant fairy tale?" he asked.

"I haven't heard any Delta Quadrant fairy tales," B'Elanna began sarcastically.

"You just don't get away from your engines enough, I know a few. Now, where should I start…? Okay: Once upon a time there was knight in the court of Janes the First of the land of Voyeur who was the bravest knight in all the land. One day he set out on a mission with the beautiful princess of the land. It looked like a simple mission, just to get supplies for the castle, but they were captured by pirates…"

B'Elanna interrupted Tom to ask, "Pirates? On land? I thought pirates were only at sea?"

"Well, these pirates had gotten tired of being so far from their families so they switched to being land-based pirates."

"I've never heard of land-based pirates."

"Well, now you have, are you going to listen or argue?" Tom asked petulantly.

"Okay, I'm listening. But this really is a fairy tale."

"You know, it's not nice to criticize the storyteller. It really can deflate his ego," Tom reminded her.

"Not likely, Paris."

"Hmph…. Okay, the princess and the knight have been captured and the pirates are torturing the princess while the knight has to work in their coal mines. The knight was very worried about his princess and _very_ relieved to find her in the workers' barracks when he came in from the mines but she'd been hurt. The pirates had divided… had broken her spirit. They had taken her courage away from her and she was afraid that she couldn't lead any more. It worried her greatly because she needed to be strong to lead her people and keep them safe." Tom's voice told of the sympathy he felt for the princess.

"Wait a minute, how could they take away her courage?" B'Elanna's voice held skepticism.

"They broke her spirit. They told her she was only half the person she really was and made her believe it. Are you going to be this difficult for the whole story?"

"No, I just want to be sure you're getting the facts straight."

"What facts? This is my story."

"Well, then tell it." B'Elanna smiled to herself. He really did seem more alert.

"Okay, the princess was frightened and felt like she could no longer be the leader of her kingdom. The knight tried to help by telling her stories of his childhood but she was still afraid and unsure of herself. The pirates came and carried off one of the other knights who'd been captured with them. He was killed and that made the princess very sad." Tom's voice softened to a murmur, "It should have been me..."

B'Elanna looked at him sharply, "You're not drifting off on me, are you Paris?"

Tom's eyes snapped open, "No, no, I'm awake. Just collecting my thoughts. Let's see, the guards forced the princess into working in the mines but she no longer had the strength to work as hard as the others. She was trying to find a way for all of them to escape when a friend found her -a very brave friend- who wanted to fight their way out. Together, with the princess's brains and her friend's courage they managed to escape, but her brave companion was killed. When they got back to the castle the princess realized that her brave friend had given her life so that the princess could have her courage back. The knight was glad that she realized that." Tom finished the story softly.

"That's it? Aren't all fairy tales supposed to have a moral?" B'Elanna asked incredulously.

"The moral is be glad you're who you are and don't try to change" was Tom's indignant reply.

"What kind of a moral is that?"

"Look, if you don't like my story then tell me one of yours."

"I told you, I don't know any stories."

Tom leaned his head against the wall of the lift and closed his eyes. Arguing with her was not helping the dizziness nor was it helping his queasy stomach. "Okay, just let me rest my eyes a minute."

B'Elanna sat up hurriedly and looked at him, "No you don't, flyboy. Keep your eyes open and stay with me here. How about another story? Only forget the princess, just stick to the knight this time."

"Isn't it your turn?" Tom rejoined.

"Nope, you need the practice."

"Thanks. Okay, well, one day the knight was called in by the queen. She had a mission for him, a very dangerous mission. But he had to keep the mission secret; he couldn't tell anyone. The mission involved finding a spy, a traitor in the kingdom. But first the knight had to make everyone on the… in the kingdom angry so they would throw him out. Now, one of the knight's truest gifts was the ability to make people angry and he got himself thrown out of the kingdom pretty quick. The knight still had some friends but only a few came to say good-bye when he left. The princess didn't come."

"Maybe she didn't want to believe that he would really leave her," B'Elanna answered softly.

Tom looked at her quizzically, "Maybe, but the knight really had to go, he didn't have any choice."

"Yeah, okay, what happened next?"

"He was immediately captured by the queen of the neighboring kingdom who tortured him and tried to make him give away the secrets of the kingdom but he didn't. All he could think about was the fact that if he didn't tell them anything then his princess would be safe and he wanted to keep her safe. "

Tom stole a look at B'Elanna who had suddenly grown very pensive. "Are you still with me here or is your brilliant mind developing a method of escape?" he asked.

"I'm here. Finish your story."

"Okay, well, there's not much more to tell. The knight, being a very clever and resourceful kind of hero, managed to steal a…a horse from the wicked queen's stable. It was a very old and slow horse but he managed to get away and ride back to the kingdom to warn the good queen and the wicked queen was defeated."

"And how did things go when he got back since he'd pissed off all of his friends before he left?"

"Well, not too bad really. He issued a public apology, which helped some. And he really tried to keep his nose to the grindstone for a while since the Queen's Chancellor was still pretty ticked off."

"Why the chancellor in particular?" B'Elanna asked bemusedly.

Tom looked at her in surprise and then quickly tried to hide it, "Well, I guess because the Chancellor was the one it was the most fun aggravating."

"Why?" B'Elanna asked again. "He was only trying to do his job, wasn't he?"

"I don't know. It's a fairy tale. How much motivation is there in a fairy tale?"

"As much as you want if it's your fairy tale." B'Elanna insisted.

"Look, B'Elanna, by definition fairy tales are stories told down through the ages. They don't belong to anyone." Tom voice held both irritation and pain now.

But B'Elanna continued to lecture him, "Fairy tales started out as a way of teaching children. You know, the old work hard and you'll be rewarded stories, there's a silver lining inside every cloud. All I want to know is what is the moral in your story."

"Who made you the fairy tale police?" Tom asked angrily and tried to get up, a decision he quickly regretted.

B'Elanna scrambled to her feet and managed to catch him as he started to lose his balance. Helping him return to the floor, she berated him for his foolishness, "What in the hell do you think you're doing, Paris? The least you can do is stay down so I don't have to keep catching you."

"Don't bother," Paris murmured as he fought to regain his equilibrium.

Once she had him settled again she regretted her prying question. He was certainly paler than before and seemed more unsure of his whereabouts, looking around in perplexity.

"Tom," she said softly and then, a little louder, "Tom!" when he didn't respond.

"What?" he answered sulkily.

"You're not drifting off on me are you?

"No, I'm just sitting here perfectly useless with a concussion and a dislocated shoulder while you criticize me. Drifting off would be a distinct improvement." The pain was starting to fog his thinking and make him surly.

B'Elanna relented. "Look, if you'll sit still I'll make up a story for you."

"A fairy tale?" he asked beguilingly.

"More like a warrior's tale. Klingons don't have fairies," she answered with a grin.

"Okay, whatever," he mumbled.

"Stay with me, Paris. It's your turn to be critical of my story. You don't want to miss an opportunity like that!"

"I certainly don't," he answered and struggled to find a focal point and settle his spinning head. He started with her eyes, those chocolate pools that held him in such scorn. They didn't look so scornful now, more worried than anything else. Then he let his glance travel to her lips and linger, wondering if she'd ever agree to let him taste those luscious…

"Tom!" B'Elanna almost shook him but thought better of it. "Tom!"

"I'm here; I guess I just got a little distracted. Beautiful women do that to me." He tried his most charming smile.

"Don't play games with me, Paris. Do you want a story or don't you?"

Tom could see that she was angry now and stifled a sigh. This woman was the most unique and the most insecure person he'd ever known. Winning her over as a friend was proving to be quite difficult. As a lover? Impossible! But what a challenge…

"Tom, you're scaring me," her voice sounded suddenly unsure, "I don't know what to do if you pass out on me. We may be here a while and I need you to tell me what to do. Quit drifting off on me, okay?"

Forcing himself to focus again on her eyes, he smiled. "Sorry, I'm listening, really. But this better be good."

"Yeah, yeah," she murmured as she frantically tried to come up with a story. "Okay, let's go with your knight again." She finally said.

"How can my knight be a Klingon?" Tom asked.

"It's my story. Live with it."

"Ooookay…" Tom drawled.

"This knight wanted to fly faster than any other knight had ever flown."

"Knights don't fly." Tom interrupted.

"The Klingon culture is far more developed than the Earth culture. Our knights fly," she answered loftily.

Tom looked at her in amazement, but her withering glance persuaded him not to ask any more irrelevant questions.

B'Elanna continued, "So, this knight, who wanted to fly faster than anyone else had ever flown, started working on a new ship. He had a lot of help from his friends but it was really his desire that motivated them to keep working."

"Why did he want to fly so fast?" Tom asked.

"He was a pompous ass." B'Elanna answered matter-of-factly and then grinned. "You'd have liked him."

Tom grimaced and murmured, "Thanks."

"So, he and his friends worked hard and finally were ready for a test flight. Others volunteered to go, but he wouldn't let them. It was something he had to do for himself and it was dangerous. Whenever there was danger involved he liked to be in the front. A true Klingon warrior."

"Kind of like: every day is a good day to die?" Tom asked.

"Sort of, yeah. I mean he was brave but he lived for danger, always looking for trouble."

"Hmmm," Tom pondered for a moment but gave up trying to figure this out. "How did the test flight go?" he asked.

"It seemed almost perfect. They were scared for a while that he might not come back but he did and the whole city really had a celebration. But then he started to act funny. His flight had changed him in several ways, physical ways. It was frightening to watch those changes and to wonder if he'd ever be okay again. His mind was changing too and he did crazy things. He stole his ship and then he kidnapped the queen. They traveled to a far off land full of strange animals. It took some time to find them and when the Chancellor, the Queen's second in command, found the knight and the queen they had mutated and mated and had offspring. Unsure what to do the chancellor left the offspring on the planet where he'd found them and only brought home the queen and the knight. The best doctors in the kingdom were called in to heal them. And they were healed after a while."

B'Elanna was struggling a little with her story now and wishied she'd stuck with something simple like "Little Red Riding Hood." But Tom had been listening and asked, "How did the knight feel about his offspring being left behind?"

"I don't know… I mean… I guess he was glad not to have to deal with… something like that. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. Just curious, I guess," he answered quietly.

"How do you think he felt?" B'Elanna asked.

"Sorry that he'd never got to see them, maybe. Or curious about whether they ever grew up to fly a ship."

B'Elanna looked at him strangely. "I guess maybe he could have had some of those thoughts. He never mentioned it."

"How did the princess take all of this? Was she glad to have the knight back?"

"Yeah, she'd kind of missed him and his annoying ways… Wait a minute. This story didn't have a princess." B'Elanna looked chagrined that she'd been caught in such a simple ploy.

"Every fairy tale has a princess," Tom assured her as he gave her a long, searching look.

Hiding her embarrassment B'Elanna answered him, "That's a pile of targ dung. The story has what the story teller wants it to have. "

"Wait a minute…" Tom began but was interrupted by a screech from the comm system. "Ow," he said and started to cover his ears, forgetting that he had a dislocated shoulder. "Damn, that hurts."

"Well, if you'd just stay still instead of bouncing all around it wouldn't hurt as much." B'Elanna retorted.

They heard a soft clearing of throats and then Chakotay's voice, "I take it you two are all right down there."

B'Elanna started to turn red, "As well as can be expected stuck in a turbolift for hours with … with…"

Tom raised his eyebrow and waited for a vituperative adjective. But again B'Elanna surprised him.

"…Paris. He's injured. Can you get us out yet?"

"It's only been 30 minutes and we're working on it. Carey's working on the lift and Harry is working on the transporters. He just wanted me to check and see if you were both still alive." Chakotay answered.

"Tell them to hurry. Tom's got a concussion and a dislocated shoulder. He needs to be in sickbay." B'Elanna's voice held impatience.

"I'll notify the doctor. We'll get him out as soon as we can. I assume these injuries are a result of the attack," Chakotay asked blandly. The sounds of laughter filtered through the comm system.

"Chakotay…" B'Elanna's voice was menacing.

"Just another couple of minutes, B'Elanna," Harry's voice was reassuring but concerned. "Is Tom still conscious?"

"For now," she growled.

Another few minutes passed in silence as Tom leaned against the wall of the lift with his eyes closed.

"Hey," B'Elanna said softly. "You're not passing out on me, are you, Paris?"

"No, just resting my eyes, Torres." He opened his eyes and caught her worried look. "Klingon warriors die in battle, B'Elanna, not turbolifts," he reminded her.

"Ha," she scoffed, "what makes you think you'll ever be a Klingon warrior?"

"Hey, everyone has to have a goal and if they're the ones who can fly the fastest then I need to make it my goal to beat them."

Her reply was cut short by another crackle on the comm and the words "…transported to sick..." They each watched as the other faded from sight and then materialized on the floor of sickbay.

"Geez, we could have used a little warning, Doc." Tom protested.

"Beggars can't be choosers," he replied. "You wanted out of the turbolift, you're out of the turbolift."

B'Elanna began helping Tom to his feet while the doctor tut-tutted in the background. "Everyone expects me to work around their schedule. Well, I may have things to do too."

Once he was on the biobed, Tom allowed his eyes to close once more while the doctor assessed his injuries. B'Elanna stayed at his side, not realizing that she was holding his hand.

"Well," the doctor began, "I'd say you have a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, Lieutenant. Lucky for you your hard head kept it from being any worse."

"You should see my access panel," B'Elanna murmured. Paris couldn't help but grin at the tone of B'Elanna's voice and the feel of her hand in his.

"I take it you managed to keep Mr. Paris alert during your entrapment."

"Yeah," B'Elanna smiled a genuine smile, "we told fairy tales."

_The end or is it the beginning…_


End file.
